The Chronicles of Claudia Labelle -- Part XIV

Throughout much of the morning hours, my clustered thoughts have left me wondering what exactly my wedding to Henry Beauclerc will be like. If I may write honestly, I do not know where these thoughts have come from. Perhaps it is the light of the morning sun, rising into the cloudless blue sky. I have not seen the sun in a few days, and its warmth has romanticized my mind.

It is no secret that Father will spare no expense on the ceremony; as I expect a lavish event, the best in the history of France and England, and maybe even all of Europe. It will be held in a white building, with marble floor, gilded white furniture and decorations, and hundreds of flowers. All of the members of the Noble Houses of France will attend, dressed in the finest clothes throughout the whole of Europe.

My dress will be white, laced in gold, made with the most exquisite Byzantine silk. I will wear the golden crown of England, but only after I have it jeweled with elegantly crafted diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.

The groom, Henry, will wear a smooth black raiment that will compliment his . . .

It is humorous to know what almost everything will look like on my wedding day, except for what Henry Beauclerc actually looks like. If I am to guess, just by his name, I would say he has well kept brown hair, with a rugged jawline and enchanting green eyes. He is good with money, I am sure and knows how to lead a Kingdom. Intelligent, brave, and a passionate lover.

Or so I hope.

Perhaps I am overthinking it. Certainly, Henry will have some suggestions, and I cannot force him to wear black if he chooses not to. And the truth is that I do not know anything about him. Deep down, I do wish Father would have sent me to the University of Oxford. At least then I would be able to meet Henry, and we could develop some sort of close relationship before we marry.

But I guess if that happened, I would have never met Prior Anders. I would have never known the story of the tragedy that befell Edda. I would be plagued by my gift, unable to control it. In a way, I am thankful to have come to Saint Ansgar Priory and to have met Prior Anders. I only wish now that he would speak to me . . . I have not seen him in quite a while.

Please gather your things. We are leaving Sigtuna and heading back to Saint Ansgar Priory today. The coachman will be here to pick us up at midday. I apologize for such a short notice.

Prior Anders

[LETTER--ONE]

Claudia,

Your Father and I have not received word that you have arrived safely at Saint Ansgar Priory since your departure on the 1st of November. I have begun to grow nervous as each day passes. I can only imagine what takes place in the savage wilderness of Scandinavia.

Please do write to me as soon as you can. I love you, my beautiful daughter.

Your Mother,

Madeleine Labelle

10th of November

[LETTER--TWO]

To the sweet and comely, Miss Claudia Labelle,

I have heard from Sister Agnes that you and Prior Anders will be returning within the next couple of days. I must admit that I have been waiting anxiously for your return, and this news has filled my heart with an overwhelming sense of excitement. English lectures have been quite boring without your presence. I know you will have much to catch up on, and I am more than willing to help you study at your request.

If you would be so kind as to do me a service; please meet with me in the Library upon your arrival. I will be waiting for you there.

With all of my grace,

Jovan Vukan, Grand Prince of Serbia

21st of November

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